


Wet

by orphan_account



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Desperation, Dom/sub, Dress Up, Lingerie, M/M, Restraints, Spanking, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 19:58:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4072609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smut from beginning to end. First Aid is cheesed off about his demotion and somehow that's Ambulon's fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wet

**Author's Note:**

> You know sometimes you write something and from start to finish you just think "sorry mum" this is one of those things.

Since his demotion First Aid had become insufferable. He was sullen, rife with bitterness and downright impossible to work with. As soon as the nurse stepped into a room the atmosphere was plagued with a vibe of enmity that infected the patients and Ambulon alike. 

It was Ambulon’s observations that had resulted in First Aid’s unpleasant shift in rank, the action was sanctioned by Pharma, who at first found it endlessly amusing to let Ambulon front the blame and what his two esteemed staff members clash and squabble. It was a petty pass time. Once the novelty wore off, First Aid’s standoffish attitude and Ambulon’s mulishness grew irritating. Pharma had ordered them to get along. But he appreciated that _friendship_ would be an unreasonable goal, some overall team bonding however, seemed more feasible. What better way to encourage staff co-operation than to invite them both for a round of drinks. Just one round. Pharma wasn’t that excited about blowing his credits on other mechs. 

They were gathered at the bar. Delphi had a communal area for staff and patients, but it was usually deserted. As Delphi was a medical facility the consumption or distribution of high grade was strictly prohibited, which attributed to the emptiness of the communal lounge.    

The three of them were perched at the bar, Pharma lingered for two more rounds so that the shares were even and then ditched the dreary twosome. 

In their CMO’s absence, First Aid immediately turned up his nose, which prompted Ambulon to down his newly replenished four cube of mid grade and say, _whatever I need to do to make it up to you, I’ll do it_. 

He hadn’t expected First Aid to take the offer as literally as he had. Nevertheless, Ambulon was bound to comply and had spent the better half of an hour playing dress up in First Aid’s quarters and letting himself be wrapped for First Aid’s aesthetic pleasure.

There was no strength in the restraints to combat Ambulon if he suddenly decided he wanted to break free. They were merely a deterrent: a few thin ribbons flourished around his wrists and arms, tying his limbs behind his back and decorated by a large, pink bow. If Ambulon wriggled, the ribbons would pull taut just to remind him not to resist. The rest of his packaging: the corset, the garters, the panties with all the frills and laces and decoration, Ambulon had expected to be ripped off shortly after the struggle of dressing ended. 

But First Aid wasn’t ready to unwrap his present yet. When Ambulon stepped out of private sanctuary of the bathroom he walked stiffly. The corset compressed his chest and cut in under his arms. As he was flushed and feeling a little shaky, the restriction made breathing hard. First Aid was keen to admire him. 

“Turn around.” He stretched out his arm and twirled his finger. The stage directions made Ambulon blush furiously. He complied, taking small, awkward steps as a lack of balance and a head rush made him unsteady.  

“Stop.” 

He’d completed half a rotation, his back faced First Aid and the berth now, the outrageous bow tickled his shoulders. 

“Bend forward.” 

Heat crept up Ambulon’s neck, and the air was pregnant with anticipation of Ambulon’s response. He imaged First Aid lounging there, on the berth, with his legs spread apart, ogling the sight of Ambulon’s boxy aft jutting in the air. The fabric of the panties stretched and pulled tight over Ambulon’s open interface, the sheer fabric clung to the moist heat blooming out of Ambulon’s valve. He stooped forward as far as he could with his arms strung behind his back, the uncomfortable volume of his full waste tank sloshed forward and all his energon pooled in his head. He stayed still, and hoped this shy display of his aft would satisfy First Aid’s lechery, if Ambulon was prompted any further forward he’d over balance. 

“Walk to me.”

The back of Ambulon’s knees ached after he’d straightened. As he approached the bed, the ruffles in his outfit chaffed his groin. He stopped in front of First Aid, stance rigid and legs slightly parted. 

First Aid tugged on Ambulon’s corset, pulling one side so it was evenly spread and made the expansion of Ambulon’s airways even more difficult. 

“It suits you.” 

An almost unnoticeable tremor travelled down Ambulon’s arms. First Aid continued to fiddle with the ruffles and Ambulon resisted squirming. _Damn it all,_ he really regretted chugging down that extra cube of energon. The heaviness of his waste tank was a constant distraction, and paranoia was starting to set in. Warm tendrils crept down his thighs, Ambulon willed it to be the caress of invisible nervous energy and not something visibly unsavoury. At the same time his valve gave a needy pulse. First Aid slapped his hands round Ambulon’s aft gripping hard. He squeezed Ambulon forward, forcing him to waddle between First Aid’s thighs until his knees were stopped by the berth and his chest was squashed to First Aid’s face. The beaded silk of Ambulon’s corset was being nuzzled. First Aid inhaled deep, sighed and heard Ambulon’s systems gurgle. His grip on Ambulon’s aft slackened and he fiddled with the frills that trimmed Ambulon’s nickers.

“You’ve been so unfair to me, Ambulon.” It was then that Ambulon was reminded of the dozens of angry autobot insignias hanging on the wall above First Aid’s berth that would spectate the curious play occurring on the berth that would unravel Ambulon’s self-esteem in a tyrannical but delicious performance. He rolled his hips into First Aid’s hands. The reaction was a slap: quick, sharp, Ambulon flinched and the hot liquid inside him sloshed. 

First Aid had slipped his knee between Ambulon’s legs, keeping Ambulon from jamming his legs closed. 

“Please, First Aid.” Ambulon shuddered, moisture grew in the palms of his hands, “I need to use the bathroom.” 

“Why didn’t you do that before we started?”

Ambulon dimmed his optics, bit his lips, the reason was a precipice in Ambulon’s mind and he couldn’t see the explanation at the bottom of it. First Aid chewed up his silence. 

“No. You stay, see this through.” 

Ambulon’s lips wobbled, the pressure in him grew as he was spread over First Aid’s legs, his lower abdomen squashed against to First Aid’s thigh.

 “You’re enjoying this really.” Two fingers rubbed between Ambulon’s legs, massaging the coarse fabric between the lanky lips of Ambulon’s valve until the damp patch spread and clung to his exterior nub too. 

Ambulon whined as he was toyed with, the irregular teasing and caressing of his nub making him crave more. He hadn't notice he’d started to squirm, the iris of his spike housing was spiralling open, seeking friction, the instincts of Ambulon’s body urged him to rut ungently. First Aid caught Ambulon’s nub through the panties, and pinched hard. Ambulon convulsed on First Aid’s legs, to his chagrin, he’d resorted to his most basic instincts. The heavy pressure inside Ambulon’s body brought him and straining erection that was held back by the cover of his panties and First Aid’s thigh.

The nickers were whipped down off Ambulon’s aft quickly and his valve was partially exposed to the cold air. 

“Dirty mech.” First Aid trespassed his finger tips into the outer most dip of Ambulon’s valve, pressing down into the hot, sticky spread and, curling his finger tips, dragged on the lip of Ambulon’s valve. The stretch released a moist gout of air from inside him and Ambulon head pounded. “So naughty.” First Aid was cooing at him, and Ambulon anticipated the first lick of punishment. 

First Aid’s hand clapped down on Ambulon’s bear aft experimentally, gauging how well Ambulon would react. Ambulon did little more than clench his jaw and the next slap rained down harder, and then harder again sending waves through Ambulon’s bursting waste tank. The tiny sphincter controlling his body’s desperate cries clenched tight. Each slap made him squirm a little further across First Aid’s thighs, grinding his bulging crotch. First Aid’s firm but fair hand immediately stopped.

Ambulon gulped. The sting in his plating, the humiliating naked heat, Ambulon was sickeningly aroused by it, desperate for it, and thrust his aft up for attention, hands flexing in their binds. His cry for service was obliged, but not gently. First Aid tucked Ambulon’s panties back over his aft and swatted him once more, the hardest hit yet. Ambulon’s strength fled and he caved down, his full weight sprawled over First Aid’s lap. Distressed signals from his groin worried Ambulon with increasing urgency. He didn’t know for how much longer he could ignore is body’s demands. Ambulon is damp with condensation, it left a sheen all over his plating, enabling his thighs to slide frictionless across each other when he squeezed them together and willed the desperate throbbing in the overflowing tank behind his valve to ease.

First Aid is quiet above him when he stroked Ambulon through the damp fabric, so gentle and he cooed softly.

“Shh, be a good boy.” 

_Oh, Primus, he knows_ the metal across Ambulon’s stomach was hot and taut, First Aid’s knee unsubtly shifted under the weight of Ambulon, rising up slightly and pressuring his bloated components. Ambulon’s spike pulsed feebly, torturously neglected but still grotesquely hard. 

“Stand up.”

Ambulon wasn’t sure if he could follow the command without help. He’d grown so stiff, the gravid presence of his desperation weighed him down. He squirmed, wiggling so that his whole interface pressed into First Aid as he hunted for leverage. 

“Get up.” First Aid sounded impatient, but his visor flashed gleefully. Ambulon was stuck, and sweating fat blobs of moisture that made them both sticky. He felt the indignity of his position throb in his temples. The was no way out unless he begged.

“Please, Nurse.” Ambulon’s cheeks were hot, he felt the aching vulnerability soil him deeply, but it was overshadowed. Brimming full of piss, Ambulon desperately wanted to touch himself. 

His arms gave a weak flex to test his binds, they remained solid.  

“Get up, Ambulon. You haven’t even tried.” 

Ambulon inhaled deeply through his nose, one foot stretching out shakily and kicked for the floor. He found his roots and twisted his body, face sliding unavoidably into First Aid’s crotch. It smelled strongly of musk and gut-churning arousal. Ambulon’s nose poked into the grease lining First Aid’s wires then wilfully pampered First Aid’s droopy spike. 

First Aid twitched under him, his spike becoming big and dense immediately after Ambulon’s tongue started flicking across the girth, the attention rising steadily upward. 

Ambulon’s knees were slightly parted, letting the air get between them. The fabric cooled and moulded to the shape of his engorged array as Ambulon’s flushed lips took in the shape of First Aid’s spike. 

He bobbed his head once, the head of First Aid’s spike fluidly sliding across his tongue and prodding Ambulon’s intake. 

Static fizzed at the corners of Ambulon’s optics, his tanks lurched up and Ambulon swore he felt something hot trickle down the inside of his thigh but prayed it was a mistake. He clenched his muscles tighter.

First Aid twitched inside Ambulon’s mouth, hips rolling in minute circles, indulging in the sweet sting of Ambulon tongue dabbing against his transfluid slit. 

“G-get up!” First Aid’s voice was ragged and tight. The raw tip of his spike rested against Ambulon’s lips, dribbling clear fluid as Ambulon prepared himself for the next ordeal: standing. 

The head of First Aid’s spike was kissed messily, Ambulon grazed its sensitivity with his teeth. Both feet pressed flat to the ground and Ambulon pushed up slowly, knees wobbling and suspension hissed. Ambulon’s full spike was a clear outline in his panties, sandwiched between his distended stomach and the waistband. 

Finally, he was standing and still shaking horribly. 

“What’s the matter, Ambulon? You look flushed.” It was a mocking concern. First Aid knew what he was doing.

“Please.” Ambulon wheezed, wrecked by arousal and his body’s wretched pines to release right there. The notion made him shudder and a squirt of something warm added to the mess of wetness darkening his panties. His expression changed, and First Aid knew exactly what he’d done, but continued with the illusion of ignorance, tormenting Amublon’s aching waste tank further. 

“Oh dear, Ambulon. Are you okay? Would you like something refreshing?”

Ambulon gazed to where their two cubes of mid grade they’d carried home from the refectory. They were standing on the bedside unit. Ambulon’s mouth turned dry at the sight, his groin pulsed needfully and he longed to jam his hand _down there_ , uncertain if he’d cup back the torrent or rather experience relief jet between his fingers.

“Eat me you filthy bastard!”

Ambulon chest was shaking, his spark pulse heavy and chaotic. A bead of condensation had just trickled down the frosted side of an energon cube and Ambulon was at the limits of his restraint. 

First Aid slid off the berth and got onto his knees in front of Ambulon, nuzzling his face against the length of Ambulon’s smooth spike through the panties and kneading the warped, tense metal that had mutated to benefit the bulging waste tank.

A spasm wracked Ambulon’s body, his knees buckled, and though he clenched every fibre in his body a whimper and a hot trickle escaped him.

“ _First Aid!”_

First Aid leaned back, resting his back on the berth and his chest pushed out. He hooked his hands behind Ambulon’s knees and encouraged himself, step by step, until Ambulon’s valve was inches from First Aid’s face. 

First Aid could feel the moisture hitting his mask, he could smell Ambulon’s arousal and the tang on his shameful lack of self-control. 

“Do it, Ambulon.” 

There was raw, selfish desire behind First Aid’s voice. He gripped Ambulon’s thighs and encouraged Ambulon’s knees to bend so that he was balanced on First Aid’s muzzle, smothering him with his valve. 

It was so twisted, so wrong, Ambulon couldn’t stop himself from squirming. First Aid’s mask buried between his legs, breathing hot air and moisture. Ambulon’s valve fluttered. The granted permission to release was nearly enough to break Ambulon’s resolve. 

“Do it!” First Aid barked again, rubbing his mask across Ambulon’s nub. Ambulon’s optics clenched shut, he shook his head, but yielding was inevitable. 

First Aid spanked him. The sound ringing in Ambulon’s ears like a siren accompanying his body and First Aid’s lusty desire to _just let go_

“ _Oh Primus,”_ He keened when the first trickle breached the tight sphincter controlling his waste tank. The force of the flow massaged his body’s resistance into submission as release just felt _so good_ and turned Ambulon to a gasping mess as he lost control, rutting his soppy valve all over First Aid’s face, gripping his head tightly between his knees until First Aid was forced to prize himself away from Ambulon’s valve, gasping for air.

“I can’t stop!” Ambulon whined, his knees clashed with First Aid’s shoulders as his body refused to support his weight. 

First Aid rolled Ambulon’s nub between his fingers, not minding the torrent of fluid that rushed down his arm and dripped off his elbow. 

Ambulon whined loudly, spurred on by First Aid groaning his name. 

A weak spasm pinched Ambulon’s rapidly emptied tank, the tired hole hidden above Ambulon’s valve spluttered its last dregs of clear waste and he collapsed into First Aid’s lap, shuddering hard. His spike still twitched. 

In the commotion, the ribbon fixing Ambulon’s arms together had loosened and Ambulon had most of his mobility back, though he was too exhausted to take advantage of it. 

First Aid was breathing hotly into Ambulon’s audio, the glitch stank of hot oil and lubricant but he still wanted more.      

The frills of Ambulon’s saturated panties were pushed aside, they crumbled and collected next to Ambulon’s valve, digging into his groin. His helm clashed with First Aid’s shoulder and he was encouraged to lift his aft just enough to welcome First Aid’s spike into his valve. 

The bulbous head breached his callipers.

“ _Oh frag!”_ First Aid barked, Ambulon was even wetted than he’d expected. First Aid had anticipated them meeting like this in fantasies before, of course he had, but this was _better_ , so, so much better that First Aid could hardly breathe and Ambulon’s name became his mantra as he consumed pleasure as readily as Ambulon’s wet valve swallowed his spike, “B-Bounce, _oh Primus_ , yeah, t-take about three quarters of it and - _oh yeah!”_ Ambulon slammed down the length of First Aid’s spike, stealing pleasure from his partner greedily. The rough fabric tugged tight across his nub, making every stroke of First Aid’s spike a wonder in over stimulation. 

Moaning, Ambulon threw his helm back, ignoring how First Aid started to whimper and begged him to slow down because Ambulon wanted things hard and fast. 

_“Please_ , oh _please!!_ I’m not going t-to last!” First Aid cried, embarrassed to be beaten, but he pulsed thick transfluid against Ambulon’s ceiling node with a guttural moan. 

Ambulon fragged himself on the softening spike in desperation, forcing more grinding movements out of First Aid that put pressure on his exterior node. 

“Frag! Frag! _Frag!”_ Stifled by his overcooked systems, Ambulon didn't care for the fact that they were fragging in a puddle of his own piss that was quickly getting flicked all over his back. He was driven. He wanted to overload, _needed_ to overload, right **_nnnow_** _!_

“ _Ahh!_ -nnnuhg.”

He heard First Aid whimpering against his chest before Ambulon realised what he’d done. Overcome by carnal feeling, Ambulon had torn free of his ridiculous restrictions. As the first pent up shot of transfluid had squirted out of his spike, Ambulon had grabbed First Aid and yanked his face toward his chest. 

First Aid had been looking down with a huge, wide visor when the first pump of transfluid had splattered all over his mask. The next few spurts were weaker and lacking in the initially volume, they painted Ambulon’s dishevelled corset and sunk into the pale fabric. 

In a loud puff of exhaustion, Ambulon cursed and flopped back. First Aid was trembling under him, gripping Ambulon’s hips tight. There was transfluid dripping off his chin and Ambulon rubbed some away with his thumb. He admired its shiny and texture, its taste was even more delightful.

First Aid watched Ambulon’s thumb slid out of his mouth with a pop, thoroughly cleaned. His jaw hung slightly apart as he stuttered. 

“W-Want to do that again?” 

Ambulon was still admiring his thumb when he made an undecided noise. 

“Are you still going to behave like an aft to me in work?” 

First Aid rapidly shook his head. 

“N-no, Sir.” 

Ambulon nodded is approval, 

“Okay then,” He hiked the corset higher on his chest, “What shall we do next?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Also guys, bit of self promotion, I'm going a Giveaway on my Tumblr blog - prizes are: all 5 issues of Last Stand of the Wreckers and 1 copy of the Cyberutopia Anthology. If you're interested [ Here is the Link](http://bammshee.tumblr.com/post/120219735279/this-is-either-a-really-good-or-really-bad-idea#notes) :)


End file.
